Friends and Lovers
by Terri Berri
Summary: Logan has some Hank issues and Rogue is in the middle of the triangle this time, whether she knows it or not.


Title: Friends and Lovers  
  
Author: Terri  
  
E-mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, but if I could pick just one, it would be Hank......  
  
Archive: Sure, ask and I will happily provide  
  
Feedback: Please? With a cherry on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome.......  
  
Summary: Logan has some Hank issues and Rogue is in the middle of the triangle this time, whether she knows it or not.  
  
Comments: This is the product of a plot bunny - only I can't remember who flung it since I lost the e-mail. BadWriter! Well, anyway, the plot bunny asked for a fic where Rogue ends up with Hank. I couldn't quite do that in this one (and I still might give that a go because I just love Hank to pieces......) but it made me think - hey! Why does Jean always get to be the apex of the love triangle? Why doesn't Logan have any other-guy issues? And is Logan really the only one for Marie? Anyhow, if this is your plot bunny - my apologies for losing the e-mail - please step forward and claim your prize! (Which, um, basically is a really, really sincere apology from me and credit when the story is posted on our website. And, we've got some peeps we can throw in. Sorry. We're low on cash.) I should also warn you that this has a SlightlyUnpleasantJeanByImplication and a CompletelyHuggableHank.........  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well, I'm just so glad you helped me out."  
  
  
  
"It is truly my pleasure. This is not necessary."  
  
  
  
Logan stopped in the hallway just outside the kitchen at the sound of Hank and Rogue's voices. He ordinarily wasn't one to eavesdrop, even if his mutated senses were extraordinarily well-suited for it. But ever since he'd come back a few months ago, he'd noticed a closeness between the two that frankly worried him a little. Not because he felt Hank presented some danger to Marie, quite the contrary. It was because Logan had noticed that she sometimes gave him a particular look or laugh that Logan had assumed was reserved for their own time together. It was because she was receptive to Hank's touch, and Logan was the only other person whose touch she welcomed. It was because she sought out his company, occasionally turning down Logan's offers to watch hockey or to go for a ride on the bike to spend time with Hank. In short, Logan was beginning to think he had some competition for the special place he held in Marie's life, and it bothered him.  
  
  
  
"Well, I don't mind cooking at all, I kind of like it. And pizza is my favorite too." Cooking for him? She's never cooked anything for me, Logan thought. I never knew she even liked to cook.  
  
  
  
"So, tell me, how did you find the exam today?" Logan knew that the primary reason Marie and Hank had become friends was that Hank had volunteered to tutor her in math. She was doing reasonably well in all of her other classes - Bs or Cs - but math was hard for her, and she was barely passing. Logan privately suspected that it was because Jean taught the class, and Marie had always had a difficult relationship with her. Logan blamed himself for this - he knew Marie was jealous of how he'd flirted with Jean. He'd been good about not being so flirty, so obvious, since he'd come back, and he had been hoping that Marie would notice and feel better about the whole thing. The math class was evidence that perhaps she wasn't feeling a whole lot better about it.  
  
  
  
"Well, it was the last one, and I am now officially done with high school - well, assuming I passed it - "  
  
  
  
"And I am confident that you have."  
  
  
  
"Optimist. Anyway, it was the last one, and I'm just glad to be done with school." Jean and the Professor had both talked to Logan when he returned about Marie's performance in school. She was a bright girl, they told him, but she just wasn't living up to her potential. They'd asked him to talk to her, thinking he might have some influence, might be able to get her a little more interested in making a final push to raise her grades so that she would have better prospects for college. She'd told Logan, just as she'd told Jean, the Professor, Scott, and Hank, that she wasn't interested in going to college.  
  
  
  
"Have you given any more thought to what you wish to do now?"  
  
  
  
"Hank.can I tell you a secret?" Secret? Now she's telling him secrets? Logan was *not* at all pleased with that. She was the only one he'd ever told confidential information to, and he just assumed that it worked both ways. The idea of someone else - especially a *male* someone else - knowing something about Marie that he didn't made him irrationally angry.  
  
  
  
"Of course."  
  
  
  
"I sent in my portfolio, the one with the really good painting. I sent it in to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago." Painting? Logan was getting more and more angry. He knew she painted, as a hobby, on the side. For fun. He didn't know anything about art, so he just made some generally nice comments whenever she would show him something she'd done. He'd had no idea she was sending her paintings to some institute. And what the hell was an art institute anyway?  
  
  
  
"That's wonderful! I'm so glad you decided to do it!" Whatever it was, Hank was obviously very happy about it.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, yeah, all of your annoying supportiveness and encouragement paid off." It just got worse and worse - now she was teasing with Hank, and that was definitely something Logan had thought was reserved for him. How could he have missed all this?  
  
  
  
"It was all part of my evil plan to get you to submit your work." And here Hank was, teasing back. And Marie liked it - she was laughing with him.  
  
  
  
"Well, your plan has succeeded. I sent a few more off to other schools, and I've heard from all of them except the Art Institute."  
  
  
  
"You did? That's wonderful! What did the other schools say?" Logan was dumbfounded. Not only had she applied to *several* schools that were God- knows-where, she'd been accepted. And she hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone. Well, anyone but Hank.  
  
  
  
"I got accepted to all of them, Hank. Every one. Three offered me scholarships, but..the Art Institute would be my first choice. I'm waiting to hear from them."  
  
  
  
"When will you hear?"  
  
  
  
"There's a registered letter waiting for me at the post office. I got the notice today. I've been thinking about it all day. Hank - they wouldn't - they wouldn't send me a registered letter to reject me, right?"  
  
  
  
"I would think not."  
  
  
  
"I'm just too nervous to go get it. I was thinking of asking Logan to go with me tomorrow."  
  
  
  
"I think that would be an excellent idea. Does he know you've applied?"  
  
  
  
"No." Marie sounded distinctly deflated all of a sudden. "I don't know if he - I don't know how he'll react."  
  
  
  
"I am sure he will be thrilled that you've applied. He has been encouraging you to go on for more schooling, has he not?" More schooling, Logan thought, that's what this is about somehow. Maybe if this institute likes her painting, she can get into a school or something?  
  
  
  
"Only because the Professor asked him to. I don't think he's really that big on school himself. The Logan in my head just wants me to finish high school, that's pretty much it. And he doesn't even really care all that much that I do." Logan felt bad about that - he couldn't hide his real opinions, his real feelings from her once he'd gotten lodged in her head, and they definitely weren't always the 'correct' ones. She probably was under-performing in school due to his influence.  
  
  
  
"But still, the - the Art Institute is a prestigious school and being accepted would be a rare opportunity to study with the finest instructors." Ah, Logan thought - the institute *is* a school. He chastised himself for not realizing that before - he wagered that Hank would know something like that.  
  
  
  
"But Logan's not really into art. He - he's never been very interested in my paintings and I don't think he really likes the whole, I don't know, concept of art. He's more a practical kind of person. I just don't know if he'll really get why I'd want to go. Plus, the school is in Chicago. It would mean moving. I know he hates big cities." Moving? Away from him? Logan definitely didn't like the idea of the institute now.  
  
  
  
"Rogue, are these - are these opinions of Logan's - are they factors in your decision whether to attend the school?" Marie let out a big sigh as Logan increased his attentiveness. Part of him - a big part of him - wanted her to say yes. After all, if he was important to her, then shouldn't his opinions at least factor in? But a part of him expected her to say no, because that was the answer Hank clearly wanted to hear. He'd watched Marie enough to know that she often placated people with what they wanted to hear to avoid an argument or discussion about something she'd already made up her mind about.  
  
  
  
"I guess they are. But I - I really want to go. I mean, if they've accepted me. I guess I want to go *and* I want to have Logan's support about that."  
  
  
  
"But you don't think he will support your decision to go?"  
  
  
  
"I just don't know. I don't think he'd want to - he likes keeping an eye on me, and I don't think he'd want to leave Westchester, and Jean, to do that. I don't want to - he's done so much for me, I just don't want to make his life more complicated than I already have." That struck at Logan's heart - knowing that Marie thought he'd opt to stay close to Jean even if it meant being away from Marie was not at all what he'd hoped for. And the statement that she'd somehow 'complicated' his life - that couldn't be further from what Logan had hoped she thought, had hoped she *knew*.  
  
  
  
"I don't think you complicate anyone's life." Logan could hear sounds indicating that Marie was retrieving the pizza from the oven and getting ready to eat it. He toyed with the idea of leaving, or of going in and joining them, but he didn't actually move. He wanted to listen a little more.  
  
  
  
"That's very nice of you to say, but name one person's life who I don't complicate. Even you - for weeks, I've been dragging you out of the lab, away from important work, to tutor me in math."  
  
  
  
"I volunteered."  
  
  
  
"You had to because Jean asked. Because she didn't want to tutor me herself." Although Marie said it very matter-of-factly, Logan thought he heard a slight touch of resentment or disappointment in her voice.  
  
  
  
"She - she simply lacked the time to -"  
  
  
  
"Hank, she thinks I hate her because Logan likes her. I know she does. She thinks - probably everybody thinks - that I'm failing her class on purpose, as some kind of childish little way to get her back for being the one Logan wants instead of me." Logan flinched at that. He *had* thought that, even if he knew Marie's perceptions of who wanted who and how much to be inaccurate. Maybe she wasn't doing it exactly on purpose, but the reason for her poor performance had to be her feelings about Jean. There was just no other explanation - math was the only class she was having trouble in, and it was also the only one she took from Jean. But the way she said the words now - the resentment and disappointment were front and center - made Logan feel bad. Not that he had assigned those motives to her - because he was still pretty sure he was correct - but that he and everyone else hadn't done a better job of hiding that they thought those things about Marie. "I'm failing math because I'm jealous and pouting about it, right? Come on, be honest, it's what everybody thinks."  
  
  
  
"No one would blame you for having some, ah, complex feelings where Jean is concerned."  
  
  
  
"I do have a lot of complex feelings where Jean is concerned, but it's not why I'm failing math. Do you want red pepper?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, thank you. But if it's not Jean, then, why?" Logan was interested in the reply too. He was curious what Marie's assessment of her own motivations would be. Maybe - maybe there *was* something that he'd missed. If nothing else, eavesdropping on this little conversation had already made him realize he'd missed a lot where Marie was concerned.  
  
  
  
"If I tell you would you keep it between us?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
  
  
"I'm failing math because it's at eight in the morning, Hank. I don't - I don't sleep very well. You know about the nightmares. Some from Logan, some from Erik, some are all mine. But I usually have at least one or two every night and I don't fall asleep for good until right around three or four in the morning. It just kills me to get back up at seven and be in class at eight. It's not - I scheduled all my other classes for afternoons, but the only math section that was open was Jean's eight o'clock. I swear, I'm not even conscious half the time. I know she's caught me sleeping in class, and I know she gets upset. She thinks it's some kind of personal thing with her, that I'm doing it to insult her or something. But I'm just - I'm just tired and I miss most of the class because I drift off."  
  
  
  
"Rogue, you didn't - you didn't tell me that the sleeping pills weren't working." Logan hadn't known about any of it. It had never occurred to him that she'd gotten his nightmares along with whatever else of him had rushed into her head. She'd never said anything to him. But she *had* said something to Hank. And he'd tried to help her, he'd prescribed some sleeping pills. Logan wondered what else Marie had been keeping from him and sharing with Hank.  
  
  
  
"You said they were the strongest available, and we've tried everything else. Even hypnosis and acupuncture and all those things. There's not really anything else you can do."  
  
  
  
"I - I could experiment. I could try to develop - "  
  
  
  
"When? In all of your abundant spare time? Hank, I'm already taking you away from the Legacy research for stupid calculus tutoring."  
  
  
  
"You can't live like that, Rogue." Hank sounded deeply upset, and that scared Logan a little. He'd never heard the doctor sound anything but even- tempered.  
  
  
  
"I have been for the past few months, and I can do it a lot longer if I have to. And, apparently, I have to. Look, I don't want this to be Rogue's pity party. I get enough of those. This is supposed to be Rogue and Hank's pizza dinner, OK?"  
  
  
  
"Have you told Jean this?"  
  
  
  
"Hank.."  
  
  
  
"Seriously, Rogue. She may think differently about - "  
  
  
  
"The class is over now, and I don't really want to talk with her about it. She'll think talking about the nightmares is some excuse, some cover, or some ploy to get attention from Logan. Plus, it's my life, it's my private life, and I don't feel like being forced to share it with people just to change what they think of me. It's - what do you always say? If you don't have an open mind, new information won't change your opinion."  
  
  
  
"Jean may be more open-minded than you think."  
  
  
  
"Do you really think so? Even after the whole Magneto episode?" Another thing she didn't tell me about, Logan thought. What 'Magneto episode'?  
  
  
  
"Well, I admit that perhapsperhaps there would be a bit of a challenge there."  
  
  
  
"Hank." Marie spoke gently, and Logan could visualize her reaching across the table to take Hank's hand. Like she used to with Logan. "If she thought that I was pretending that Magneto took me over as an excuse to hit her, to vent some anger or jealousy, well, I don't hold out much hope that she'd take anything I said on face value."  
  
  
  
"She changed her mind about that, Rogue."  
  
  
  
"After I twisted the lab stool into a pretzel, yes, she did change her mind a little. But even then, not completely. She thinks - OK, maybe I wasn't pretending, but maybe I let Magneto out or something just to get at her. The fact that I don't let her or the Professor go into my head just makes them more suspicious about stuff like that. I understand. I mean, I've got one of their mortal enemies in my brain, I don't blame them for wanting to take a look around for themselves. But it's my head, and I've got enough occupants, thank you very much."  
  
  
  
"Have you told Logan?"  
  
  
  
"About the nightmares?"  
  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
  
"It would only make him feel bad, Hank. He can't fix them. He can't make them go away. He already feels guilty about me having to live with him in my head. This would just make him feel worse." Logan agreed with her assessment. It was making him feel pretty awful at the moment, and he couldn't think of any way to fix them.  
  
  
  
"If you ever need me, you know where to find me. And I am up during the night, frequently. Should - should you ever need - " The idea of her going to Hank in the middle of the night for comfort made the irrational anger surface again.  
  
  
  
"I know. Thanks. I appreciate it."  
  
  
  
"May I - may I ask a personal question? You can decline to answer if you wish."  
  
  
  
"OK."  
  
  
  
"Are you in love with Logan?" Now, this was a question that Logan desperately wanted to hear the answer to.  
  
  
  
"Everybody thinks I have a crush on him."  
  
  
  
"That's not what I asked." Hank's voice had gotten softer, more gentle.  
  
  
  
"I've loved him, literally, from the second I saw him." Logan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding at that. It was the answer he'd hoped for, and, deep down, it was the same answer his own heart would give. "And you know, sometimes I wish that wasn't the way it is. Sometimes I wish I could just think - OK, he wants Jean, he loves me, but not that way, let's just move on. But it's almost like it's just a fact of my existence. I love him, pretty much regardless. Sometimes that just sucks for me." That part of the answer *wasn't* what Logan had wanted to hear, not at all. But he wasn't entirely surprised. Marie had once alluded to the fact that he was different than he was inside her head. He hadn't been able to get her to explain what she meant, but he had a gut feeling that once he'd gotten in her head, she'd known about his feelings for her. There would be no hiding it. And he knew his outward behavior, especially before he left - well, it might lead Marie to think that he *didn't* have those feelings for her. He hadn't wanted to pressure her, so he hadn't pursued the subject at the time. But now.  
  
  
  
"You're not stuck, Rogue. Even if - even if you don't feel as though you can stop loving him, there are other people you can love too." The anger in Logan flared at that, bigger than before this time.  
  
  
  
"You're a pretty smart guy, you know?" The softness in Marie's voice only fed Logan's distress. She *was* developing a relationship with Hank, whether she meant to or not, and she *did* feel something for him.  
  
  
  
"That's what all the standardized tests tell me." Marie laughed a little at that, and Logan found himself thinking he couldn't take hearing much more of this. "And I'm smart enough to know that Logan loves you a lot, and not just as a little sister or friend." That stopped Logan cold. Why wasn't Hank trying to convince her that Logan wasn't right for her? Why wasn't Hank wooing her a little for himself?  
  
  
  
"I don't know. I - I can't tell. I don't think he does. He's been really quiet since he got back, and it's almost like he's nervous or really careful around me. I don't know why." Well, Logan thought, that was going to stop. He'd been trying to give her space, let her finish school, before he made any move toward her, but it was clear to him that he didn't have that luxury now.  
  
  
  
"Perhaps it is because he is not sure how to have a relationship with you. This evening has reminded me well that one should not always proceed on the basis on one's assumptions about others, but I would suspect that this is somewhat unexplored territory for him. And, to be fair, I have noticed some trepidation on your part as well."  
  
  
  
"Yes, well, I'm trying to hide the completely obvious fact that I love him, you know, a lot. Just in case he'd want, oh, a gorgeous, brilliant, smooth, brave, polished, red-headed doctor rather than a goofy-looking, awkward, failing-school, naÃ¯ve little kid. It's hard work."  
  
  
  
"My dear, I daresay that no one thinks you goofy-looking or awkward or naÃ¯ve. Failing math - well, we hope to have remedied that, no?" Marie laughed again and this time there was a healthy dose of gratitude mixed with Logan's anger. At least Hank had made her not think those bad things about herself, which was apparently more than Logan had accomplished. Logan crept away silently, thinking about what he'd heard and what to do about it. He did a lot of thinking that night, and well into the morning.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The knock came at about ten in the morning. Rogue was still in bed, not quite asleep and not quite awake. "Who is it?"  
  
  
  
"It's me, kid." Logan fidgeted as he stood in the hall. He'd made a plan, and it was a good plan, he was sure, but he was still for some reason a little nervous.  
  
  
  
"Come in." He opened the door to reveal her sitting up in bed, wearing the same soft smile that usually greeted him. He had to remind himself that nothing had changed in her eyes, that she didn't know he knew about the paintings or the letter or the nightmares or Hank.  
  
  
  
"I didn't wake ya, did I?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, not really, I was just laying here and being a little lazy. What's up?"  
  
  
  
"Thought you might wanna do somethin' today." Logan sat on the foot of the bed. "Got any plans?"  
  
  
  
Marie frowned and for a moment, Logan thought she was going to say she'd planned to spend some time with Hank. "Kind of, I have to go to the post office to get a registered letter."  
  
  
  
"Yeah? Who from?" He didn't like playing dumb or lying, but he wasn't about to tell her he'd eavesdropped.  
  
  
  
"Well," Marie fidgeted and played with the edge of the quilt, "it's from the Art Institute of Chicago."  
  
  
  
"What's that? Some kinda school?" He wasn't, however, above using the knowledge he'd gained through listening in to make himself look a little better.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, yeah it's an art school." She looked pleasantly surprised and he smiled a little at that. "I, um, I sent them a portfolio of my paintings. You know, just in case, just to see. They sent me a letter and I need to go pick it up and see what it says."  
  
  
  
"So, you're thinkin' about goin' to that school or somethin'?" Marie winced a little and stiffened. "Uh, 'cause that might not be a bad idea." He'd hoped that would make her relax, but now she just looked sad.  
  
  
  
"It might not be?"  
  
  
  
"Well, you know, you're really good at paintin' and stuff. That's art, right?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah." Now she looked *really* sad. Logan finally came up with a guess as to the cause - he remembered what she'd said about him wanting to stay in Westchester with Jean rather than stay close to her.  
  
  
  
"It's in Chicago, right? I've never been there, I don't think. We could go check it out if you want." Now she'd picked her head back up and was looking at him with undisguised shock.  
  
  
  
"You'd do that? You'd take me out to visit the school?"  
  
  
  
"Uh-huh. How far is it from here? We could drive out, make a little trip of it." Logan had planned this part - it was the perfect way to get some time alone with her. Not to mention the perfect way to get her away from Hank for a while.  
  
  
  
"A - a trip? You and me."  
  
  
  
"Well, yeah, if you wanna go." Marie jumped up and lunged at him for a hug. He returned it, squeezing her a little longer and a little more tightly than usual. He wondered if she noticed that.  
  
  
  
"I really want to go! That would be great! I mean - I mean - if the letter says they want me. No point in going to see it if it's a rejection letter." She blushed in a way that Logan found especially adorable and shrugged her shoulders.  
  
  
  
"Nobody's stupid enough to reject you." He looked at her seriously for a brief moment, then smiled. "Come on, let's go get that letter."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I'm too nervous. You open it." Watching Marie bounce up and down on her toes and fidget, Logan began to realize that this was even more important to her than he'd first thought, and it hurt a little that she hadn't shared it with him until now.  
  
  
  
"OK." He opened the letter and began to read.  
  
  
  
"Logan?"  
  
  
  
"Huh?"  
  
  
  
"Read it out loud." She shot him look that conveyed equal parts exasperation and anticipation.  
  
  
  
"Oh. Dear Marie Xavier - you used Chuck's last name?"  
  
  
  
"Yes. I changed it when he became my legal guardian. Come on, come on, read it."  
  
  
  
Logan grunted, still disturbed but thinking it was at least better than Marie McCoy. "We are pleased to inform you that your application for admission to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, class of 2005, has been accepted."  
  
  
  
"You're kidding!" She was *really* jumping up and down now, and Logan was having trouble keeping his eyes on the letter.  
  
  
  
"We are esp- especially?" Marie nodded enthusiastically. "Especially pleased to offer you a partial scholarship in the amount of $3,000 per academic year."  
  
  
  
"Crap!" She looked distinctly put out by that.  
  
  
  
"What? Doesn't that mean they're gonna give you three thousand dollars?" Logan didn't understand a lot about art, but he was pretty impressed that Marie was such a good artist that someone was willing to give her $3,000 for it.  
  
  
  
"Yes, but it costs a lot more than that to go. Tuition, room and board, supplies - it'll still end up costing another $20,000, at least. Crap. Crap. I can't go."  
  
  
  
"Hey - hold on. You - if you need money for school and shit, I can - "  
  
  
  
"No. No way. We talked about this, remember?" He did remember - when he'd been trying to convince her to go to college he'd also offered to pay. It didn't bother him that he'd have to come by the money a little less than legally; it did bother Marie, a lot.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, but if you really wanna go to this place - "  
  
  
  
"No, no. It's - it's nice to know I'm good enough to get in, you know? That's - that'll have to be enough. I can go somewhere else." Marie looked caught for a minute, then she amended, "I applied to other schools."  
  
  
  
"But you wanted to go to this one." Logan remembered the excitement in her voice when she'd talked to Hank about it. He wanted to give this to her.  
  
  
  
"I wanted to go to the best one that I got into and that I could afford. Listen, Logan - some - some of the other schools have offered me scholarships, more than $3,000, a lot more. And they're almost as good as this one." Logan could tell that she was saying that to make him and herself feel better, and that she didn't quite believe it.  
  
  
  
"But if you want to go to this one, we'll get the money. I - "  
  
  
  
"No, Logan." She spoke in the softest of voices, and reached out to put a hand on his arm. "I can pick another school. It's OK. You've - you've done enough for me."  
  
  
  
"But, Marie, this is important to you."  
  
  
  
"Yeah, it is, but I *am* glad to know I was good enough to get in. And it's pretty important to me that I can pay my own expenses for going to art school. Now, I just have to pick which one." There was the Alberta College of Art and Design in Calgary - they'd offered her an International Students' scholarship of $25,000 (Canadian) a year, which should cover all her expenses with maybe a little to spare. There was the Pennsylvania School of Art and Design, which had offered her $20,000 a year, but which was located in the middle of nowhere - Lancaster wasn't exactly the hub of artistic excitement. And there was the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston - it had offered $17,500, which wouldn't be enough to cover everything, especially given the cost of living in Boston, but which was -  
  
  
  
"Marie?"  
  
  
  
"Sorry. Drifted off for a while." The Alberta College of Art and Design had the program she'd liked the best, and they had offered her a great scholarship, but the thought that Lancaster and Boston were a lot closer to Westchester, and Logan, wasn't lost on her. "Have you ever been to Boston?"  
  
  
  
"No, why?" He was trying to figure out what to say to convince her to let him get the money for the art school in Chicago. He wasn't good at that kind of thing, but he knew she wanted it, a lot, and he still wanted to find some way to tell her he'd give it to her.  
  
  
  
"I was accepted at a school there too. And one in Pennsylvania. And one in Calgary, but that's too far away."  
  
  
  
"Too far away from what?"  
  
  
  
"From you." That slipped out before Marie could stop herself. "I, uh, I mean too far from Westchester."  
  
  
  
That gave Logan an opening to implement another part of his plan. "I'm not always gonna be in Westchester. I mean, if you're not stayin' there, why would I?"  
  
  
  
"Well, J - " She almost said it, then stopped herself. " - just that it's - it's your home. And there are people there that, you, uh, like, aren't there?"  
  
  
  
"What, besides you? Nah. Not really. I mean, sure, I tolerate 'em, but I can take 'em or leave 'em."  
  
  
  
"But" He knew she was going to ask him, that she was gathering her nerve to do it. "What about Jean?"  
  
  
  
"What about her?"  
  
  
  
"I know you..you know." Marie looked as uncomfortable as he'd ever seen her. "You have a - a thing with her."  
  
  
  
"I don't have anythin' with her."  
  
  
  
"But - "  
  
  
  
"I got somethin' with you." He hadn't meant to be that blatant about it, but as soon as it was out, he felt relieved. "I wanna be where you are, and if you wanna go to school or somethin', I'm taggin' along. I mean, it doesn't matter to me that much where I live. Wherever, as long as you're pretty nearby." That was *much* more than he'd meant to say, but it all spilled out somehow.  
  
  
  
"Are you - are you saying you'd move with me?" She was plainly disbelieving. This was just too good to be true, she thought.  
  
  
  
"Yeah."  
  
  
  
"For school, for four years?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah."  
  
  
  
"To - to a city, like Boston or Calgary?"  
  
  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
  
  
"Why?" Logan thought he'd explained that pretty comprehensively already. Wherever she was, he wanted to be. "I mean, uh.why?"  
  
  
  
"I like bein' around you," he elaborated uncomfortably. "It's you and me, right?" That was really the question that Logan needed an answer to - was that what she still wanted?  
  
  
  
She took a step toward him, then another, looking him squarely in the eye the entire time. She stood stock still a few scant inches from him. "I should've told you something a long time ago. I've been - well, I haven't been entirely honest with you. I'm - I've been in love with you for a long time. I'm not - Logan, I'm not looking for a roommate or a big brother. I've been in love with you for a long time." She looked down for a brief moment, then met his eyes again. Hers were beginning to fill with tears, and she didn't register the smile on his face. "So you see, you can't - you can't move with me. You can't leave Westchester because of me. I want things I can't have, Logan. That's the way it is. And I know you want to look out for me, but maybe it's time that I just - "  
  
  
  
Her words were cut off by a firm kiss. Her skin opened up almost immediately, and she felt the pull begin. Marie heaved Logan apart from her, throwing him to the ground. She fell to his side a moment later. "My God, what's wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"  
  
  
  
"Nah." He was shaken up a little, a little dizzy, that's all. "Whatever you want, Marie, you got. I mean the school in Chicago too. Whatever you want, I'm gonna give you. So don't say - it's not right, what you said. That you want things you can't have."  
  
  
  
"But, Logan, you can't - I mean, you can't - " Marie put a hand to her still tingling lips and sought the new piece of him that had lodged in her head out. "You're - you're - "  
  
  
  
"In love with you. Have been for a long time. Shoulda told you before." The dizziness was passing, and he sat up a little.  
  
  
  
She smiled broadly and giggled a little. He couldn't help but smile in return. "Really?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah, really. So where're we movin' to? Calgary, Boston, Pennsylvania, or Chicago?"  
  
  
  
She thought back to when she'd filled out the applications. She chose Boston and Chicago because they were, in her estimation, the two best programs overall. She chose Pennsylvania as a safety school, one that she felt pretty confident she could get into. Alberta - that was the wild card, chosen only because she'd met Logan there, only for sentimental reasons. When she really read over the materials, it turned out that they had a program that was almost precisely what she wanted. Maybe that - that and the big scholarship they'd given her even though she wasn't Canadian - maybe that was a sign.  
  
  
  
"Calgary," she answered and hugged him tightly to her. "Calgary, OK?"  
  
  
  
"OK." As he held her close, he remembered something. "Uh, Marie? Is your head OK? I'm sorry if I - I'm sorry if I - " He couldn't let her know he knew about the nightmares. "I just wasn't thinkin' when I did that." Hank would've thought about that, he thought bitterly. He wouldn't have just gone ahead and touched her and poured even more nightmares into her head.  
  
  
  
"It's fine. We're - I told you before that we're OK up there. I don't mind you. It's OK." She pulled back to look at him and the expression of absolute joy on her face washed away his concerns for the moment. She leaned in and gently kissed him on the side of the head, then whispered in his ear, "I love you a lot." That made all right in his world again. She loved *him*, not Hank. She was moving to Calgary with *him*.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I think it's nice - what do you think?" Apartment shopping wasn't something Logan was used to. They all looked pretty much the same to him.  
  
  
  
"It's OK. Do you like it?"  
  
  
  
"Well, it's the biggest one we've found so far. The neighborhood seems OK. And yeah, it's a little out of town, but that's why it's so big and yet so cheap. I don't mind driving a little back and forth to school. Plus, there's the coolness factor of living in a town named Balzac. What do you think?"  
  
  
  
"Sounds kinda dirty to me."  
  
  
  
"That's why you should like it." He was glad she was teasing him again. Just him, not Hank. Hank was currently about 4000 kilometers away, which is pretty much how Logan liked it. "Besides, how can you not love a town with a General Store?"  
  
  
  
"If you like the place, let's get it." Truth be told, he'd be a little relieved that they'd be living outside the city limits. He wasn't a city person - even this little town wasn't far enough out as he'd like. It was a good compromise, though - about a half hour drive to school for her, some green grass and trees and open space for him. "How much is it again?"  
  
  
  
"The lady said $500 a month with a $250 security deposit, so we'll need to give her $750. And we're going to need furniture. We can use some of my money for that, once I get the check."  
  
  
  
"Nah. We're good. We need a bed right away, though." Logan had been trying to bring up the question of whether she was expecting to get one bed or two - they'd been looking at two-bedroom apartments, and he thought she might not want to jump into sharing a bed right away. They'd been going pretty slow, physically.  
  
  
  
"Right." Marie looked at him appraisingly, and he wondered if she was trying to think of how to tell him she wanted two beds. "We're going to need something kind of big, don't you think? At least a queen size, maybe a king." Logan caught on to the fact that she had used 'a' - indicating, potentially, one bed.  
  
  
  
"Uh, yeah." He found that usually, if he just let her talk, he could avoid having to ask awkward or indelicate questions. He was hoping this was one of those times.  
  
  
  
"Plus, it's got to support your weight and mine." Yes! One bed! Logan smiled without realizing it. "What?"  
  
  
  
"Nothin'. I think a king size one too." The biggest bed possible for them seemed like a good idea. His claws, her skin - you wanted to have some space to spread out. And to play in, Logan thought, bringing a smile to his face once more.  
  
  
  
"Something is definitely up with you." Marie seemed pretty amused by that, so Logan let himself smile again.  
  
  
  
"You know what? This is gonna be the first place. Our first place. You and me."  
  
  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, it is." She crossed their new living room to embrace him. "And our first bed."  
  
  
  
"What else do ya think we'll need right off?" Logan was liking the idea of their first bed a little too much at the moment. Certain body parts were about to make that excitement evident if he didn't get his mind off that subject.  
  
  
  
"Um, maybe a couch? And a kitchen table? We can get some stuff second hand, it shouldn't be too much." The way she was holding him and running her hands along his arms wasn't helping.  
  
  
  
"Second hand? We can afford new stuff, dontcha think?" He'd always preferred to get things second hand himself, but he wanted to make their first place nice, and good enough for Marie.  
  
  
  
"Maybe some new things, like the bed - the idea of a second hand mattress is kind of icky. But we should try to save money where we can. It's going to be a little tight while I'm in school. These are going to be our salad days."  
  
  
  
"Salad days?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah, you know, the 'we're poor but happy' days. The days we eat salad in, I guess." She was teasing again, he knew.  
  
  
  
"But I like meat." Giving up the struggle to contain himself, he pressed his hips to hers, eliciting a gasp. "I don't like salad."  
  
  
  
She ground her hips against his - slowly, gently, and a little shyly. "It's good for you."  
  
  
  
He ran both hands up her back and tangled them in her long, dark hair. "Lotsa things are good for me, darlin'. Like havin' you close." He began swaying with her, moving their hips together in a slow, sensual rhythm.  
  
  
  
"No argument there." Marie's breathing changed, became irregular. "Logan."  
  
  
  
At that half-moan, half-groan of his name, he brought himself back. He gently supported her and parted from her a little, giving her a gentle kiss on the top of the head. Chastising himself for almost throwing her down on the floor then and there, he met her questioning eyes. "We can wait until we get a bed, huh? I wanna - I wanna make it nice for you." She deserved those things - a nice bed, a nice apartment, and a nice, gentle lover. Logan wanted to give them to her. She seemed to understand - she smiled softly and took his hand in hers.  
  
  
  
"Let's go see the landlady. And then let's go bed shopping."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dear Hank,  
  
  
  
Greetings from the Great White North! Logan and I finally found a place - the address is on the envelope and the cell phone number is still probably the best way to reach us. I bet you'll appreciate the literary connotations of our new hometown :)  
  
  
  
I start school in three weeks, and I'm really excited. I know the first year is really just foundation courses and all, but I can't wait to get started. I never would have had the guts to send out my work if not for you, so I guess I'll have you to thank (or blame as the case may be) for how it all goes.  
  
  
  
I really miss our talks and I hope everything is going well with you. Hey - you can give a poor college student a call every once in a while, you know?  
  
  
  
Take care,  
  
  
  
Rogue  
  
  
  
Hank folded the letter and replaced it into the envelope. Bringing up his Pam Pilot, he jumped to the "R" address entires and added the return address noted on the envelope to Rogue's entry. He looked at the picture of them he kept on his desk for a moment. It was from a few months ago, when he'd taken her to hear a poetry reading at the local library. Hank remembered that night well - they'd had a wonderful time walking around town afterward, and Rogue convinced a passer-by to take their picture. Quite a feat, Hank reflected, given that he hadn't been wearing his image inducer out that night. Not many people were willing to do favors for big, blue, furry mutants, but Rogue's southern charm and sweet smile had been more convincing than Hank was scary.  
  
  
  
He knew that he'd never really have a chance with her. Her youth didn't bother him, or her mutation, but the love she had for Logan - that was the insurmountable obstacle that would assure that she never returned Hank's feelings. He sympathized, he knew how much she loved Logan. And Hank knew she loved him too, in a fashion. On rare occasions, he would indulge in a little self-pity, though, and this was one of those times. He'd cast himself as a martyr to unrequited love, or perhaps fantasize that one day Logan would make a mistake that would send her to Hank for comfort. But deep down, he knew that he would have to content himself with only her friendship, never her love. And even deeper down, he was happy for her - she had accomplished what he yearned for so sharply. She'd found someone to love with all her heart and soul, and that someone loved her back the same way. Hank took one last long look at the picture of them - Rogue leaning into his side, one huge arm thrown about her shoulders, both smiling genuinely and broadly - and turned back to his work. 


End file.
